


we have found each other thirsty

by TheDragonofHouseMormont



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: #TrickOrJaq2019, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Only Lovers Left Alive AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 18:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21257936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragonofHouseMormont/pseuds/TheDragonofHouseMormont
Summary: It's a cold night and Arya goes to the only place left where she feels safe.





	we have found each other thirsty

**Author's Note:**

> I was as vague here with the context as the original film. I'd apologize for that, but it just didn't feel right to make what's going on around them more specific.  
no beta, we die like men.

Leaves blow across the path in the dark as Arya walks up to the house. She resists the urge to wrap her arms tighter around herself. The nights have been getting colder, everyone knows. Everyone knows, but no one says anything real about it. She knocks on the door, waits for an answer, knocks again.

_He's not here_, she realizes. It's unusual, but not unheard of. About a year ago he showed her where he keeps the spare key, and she looks for it now, lifting up a rock by the old, worn fence. It's an obvious hiding spot and she'd tease him for it if she didn't feel sorry for anyone who dared break in.

Inside, the house is swarmed with shadows. Arya flicks a switch that turns on a faded, yellow bulb. It doesn't do much to illuminate the space, but it fills the main room with a warm glow that always immediately puts her at ease. She drags her fingers over the old tomes on the bookcase and wonders if she has enough time to read any of them before he arrives.

She plucks a relatively new book, a translation of Neruda's poetry, and drops into a large armchair, the fabric fraying along the sides. There are no sounds outside to distract her, only the wind.

It's maybe an hour before the front door opens. She waits, hears a hesitant "Arya?", and closes the book.

"I'm in here!" Footsteps echo down the front hall before Jaqen steps into the room. The sight of him in his own house shouldn't be unexpected, but he's dressed in green doctor's scrubs, complete with a surgical mask and a stethoscope. A pair of black sunglasses hides his eyes, his red and white hair pulled back and half-hidden beneath a surgical cap. Arya remains in her seat staring at him while he stands in the doorframe staring back.

"Errands," he finally says, holding up a bag as if to make a point.

Arya can feel the smile threatening to break out on her face at the sight. "Right, of course." Covered as it is, his face is difficult to read, but she's sure he's trying not to laugh as well.

"Let me just," he gestures to the stairs. "I'll be right back." He slips from the room, the stairs creaking.

Arya sets the book of poetry on the side table. She crosses her arms as she waits. It's warm inside the house, but outside the wind is still blowing.

Jaqen comes back into the room dressed normally, his hair down. "I wasn't expecting you tonight."

"I know," Arya sighs. "Sorry for just dropping by like this. I just, I didn't know where else to go."

"Did something happen?"

"Not exactly." She looks down at the wooden floor, little pieces chipped away by time. "Robb started coughing today."

"Shit." Jaqen crosses the room and wraps his arms around her.

Arya buries her face in his chest, uncrossing her arms to grab hold of his shirt. "And Sansa's so sure he'll be fine. But I saw it happen to Mycah! I know what the signs look like!"

"Do you have any idea how he got it?"

"No! That's the thing, Robb's so careful, which means it could have happened anywhere."

"Come on, let's sit down." He inches them both down onto a couch, stretching out his legs so she can curl on top of him. "It's times like these I wish I kept food in the house. That's supposed to be comforting to humans, right?"

A harsh laugh escapes Arya before she can stop it. She isn't crying - she cried herself out earlier in the day before sneaking out of the Stark house just after sundown. She can feel the soft fabric of Jaqen's shirt beneath her fingertips, feel his still sternum beneath her cheek, never rising to take in air. The silence grows around them as she works up the courage to ask what she walked to his house to ask. "But you do have food here, it's just a different kind."

Jaqen's hands lift from her back as if burned. "A girl knows not what she asks."

Arya sits up, straddling his hips and trying to keep her elbows from digging into his ribs. Her hair falls into her face as she stares down at his. The fear in his eyes is unmistakable, and she regrets having to put it there. "But I do know. Because I know what's going to happen to my brother, and I know what the silence outside means."

"You can't make those things go away. Nothing you or I do can change them."

"No, but we can keep them from happening to _me_."

Jaqen sits up to face her, "There's no guarantee of that. As a human you could live a long and healthy life in the sun. Like me, you'd lose your family anyway. And one wrong donor, I--"

"You're right, there are no guarantees. But with you, I'd have a chance."

Jaqen catches sight of something behind her. "I see you were reading while you waited for me."

"Neruda," she answers without looking over her shoulder.

Jaqen reaches for the book, jostling her in the process but not dislodging her. He settles back down, opening to the last page she'd read. He reads over it silently, humming to himself, and snaps the book shut. "That might give a girl some wrong ideas."

Arya pokes him in the ribs and he laughs. It rings out, loud and imperfect, and contagious, catching her and making her laugh as well.

"If you could go anywhere in the world," she asks when her breath starts to calm, "where would you go?"

"A man is happy here with you, in this room."

Arya rolls her eyes, but can't deny the smile. "But it's so… empty here. I know you feel cooped up." She'll never forget first meeting him at the bar where Jon works. Jaqen had gone for the live music but lost track of time, and was trying to be inconspicuous about avoiding the sunlight when everyone else was stumbling out during hours that no proper bar had any business keeping. He'd been understandably reluctant about confiding in Arya, but she snuck him out the back door wrapped in a blanket.

"True. It wouldn't be so bad to go somewhere else."

"And I could always go with you."

Jaqen slips from beneath her and stands, pacing into the center of the room, his back to her. "A girl does not wish to leave her family."

"No, I don't," Arya says as she slides to the edge of the couch and plants her feet on the floor. "But I don't think I can stay here. I don't think there's anything here for me anymore. What future do I have if I stay? I'd probably just work at some job I hate until I grow old and die, if I even get to grow old. This place gets emptier every day. It feels like the world is ending."

"Because it is." Jaqen finally turns around to look at her again. His face is a construction of hopefulness, like he's trying to infuse some light into the dim room. "But that means something new will begin."

Arya can't ignore the hesitancy in his eyes as he says it. She stands up, but doesn't make any move toward him. "I know. And I want to be alive to see it."

The look crumbles from his face and in two strides he is standing before her. His hands cup her face and draw her to him, and he crushes his lips to hers. After a moment he pulls back and nods before laying his forehead gently against hers. "You have to be sure. You know the consequences."

Arya nods in response. "I know, I know."

"I have a connection at the hospital here, but if we go abroad we'll have to find new help. It's not pretty, being what I am. I've had to kill, in the past. And we have to be even more careful with all the blood poisoning."

"We'll look after each other, we can do this."

"_My love_," he recites. "_We have found each other thirsty and we have drunk up all the water and the blood_."

"_We found each other hungry and we bit each other as fire bites. _I thought you were laughing at my reading choice."

"Only because I understood. A man has known it would come to this, has feared it."

Arya places her hand against his shoulder. "You don't need to be afraid. I'm not, I refuse to be." She can't see his face, but she can feel his amusement like it radiates from him.

Jaqen kisses her once more, gently. He stands back from her, thumb brushing over her cheekbone. The dim light catches on a fang, no longer concealed. He tears open his wrist.

**Author's Note:**

> the poem that they quote (and from which the title is taken) is Absence by Pablo Neruda.  
i didn't make a playlist for this, but i did write the entire thing to this playlist here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3PRw2vhR9pQ5FmuGfMt2Gm?si=A8zP-opbQHCZ22VBoJe4nw


End file.
